


Dinner and a Show

by Dracoduceus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dragon Hanzo Shimada, Dubious water magic, Human Jesse McCree, Knotting, M/M, Oral Sex, Teratophilia, no seriously be warned, please read the warnings this time, sex with a dragon, two dick hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-22 15:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: McCree wants to surprise his lover for Valentine's Day. What better way than a barbecue? Dragons like barbecue, they were carnivores, and every dragoner knew that dragons were always hungry.He just forgot howhungrythat Hanzo could get.





	Dinner and a Show

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisabomb (kurama3173)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurama3173/gifts).



> The background that I didn't get to talk about in the story: McCree and Hanzo run a "rescue" for dragons. A lot of people seem to think that they're just animals but McCree knows better. ;)
> 
> Some of Hanzo's behaviors are based on the behaviors of my friend's iguanas. The head bobble and the salty sneezes, for example.

 

Hanzo’s tongue flicked out as soon as he entered the safehouse and his head bobbed. It would be more impressive if he were in his other form but old habits were hard to break.

“Hey, babe,” McCree said, walking over to Hanzo to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You get the stuff I asked for?”

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed, the nictitating membrane peeking out from behind his eyelids. “What is the occasion?” he asked cautiously. “Do we have guests?”

“Nope,” McCree assured him. “Nothing of the sort.”

His boyfriend purred, nudging his nose into McCree’s cheek in return. “Good, because I am _exhausted_.”

“Relax,” McCree told him, relieving him of the bundles he had gotten as requested. “You can take off your skin if you like. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Hanzo chuffed, catching him with arms that were already too long to be fully human. “What have you done? Have I missed a holiday?”

“Naw, just a silly human thing,” McCree assured him, smiling when he heard the telltale creaks and squishes and grumbles of Hanzo changing his shape. “It’s Valentine’s Day and I wanted to do something special.” Behind him, Hanzo chuffed and McCree could feel his hot breath ruffle his hair. “Found a recipe down in Uruguay—it’s a thing down there, apparently, these big ol’ barbecues—thought it would be cute. Maybe enough to sate your appetite, eh?”

McCree laughed as Hanzo’s snout came over to rest on his shoulder. He reached up a hand to scratch at the hard scales along his skull. Behind him, Hanzo grumbled low in his throat, making low, pleased noises. His long tongue flicked out and brushed McCree’s cheek. It flicked out again and brushed against his neck. A third time it _licked_ this time, running the forked tip along McCree’s collar.

Used to such things, McCree ignored it. Sometimes Hanzo could taste-smell other things on McCree that as a human he wasn’t aware of carrying. Hanzo wiggled closer, his narrow foreshoulders able to fit through the kitchen door. He liked to sit with McCree while he cooked, his nostrils flaring and tongue flicking with each new smell, the muscles around his tympanic shield twitching at each new sound, and his nictitating membrane covering his gold-orange eyes as he relaxed.

McCree chattered away, talking as he cooked. He knew that Hanzo was soothed by his voice, sometimes. When they were both in the kitchen, it tended to lull him into an endearing kind of torpor that made him much like a very large, scaly cat.

“You got the good stuff,” McCree said approvingly, peeking into the bag that Hanzo had handed him. “Went to the fancy butcher, huh?” He pulled out the packet as Hanzo moved his head out of the way, finding a small knife to cut open the twine and peel away the heavy butcher paper. “Ooh, those are some lovely sausages.”

Hanzo huffed, nudging McCree’s hip with his snout.

“You did good babe,” McCree assured him, patting his nose affectionately. “I know that I wasn’t too specific and I’m sorry, but you did wonderfully. This looks amazing.”

Pleased, Hanzo flicked his tongue out, catching McCree’s elbow.

“Do you want to know the secret to the best sausages?” McCree asked, finding his large stock pot in one of the cabinets. He grunted as he hauled it on the stove and filled it with water. “You wanna help me with this, sweetheart?”

Snorting, Hanzo stretched his neck out and touched the counter next to the faucet. He trilled and the water snaked out, arching to hook into the pot as if pulled by a hose. McCree stroked the hard scales between Hanzo’s eyes and along his bony crest (he had shed his antlers for the winter already) as he watched the water level. Hanzo let the water drain away when McCree asked for him to stop and trilled again, nudging his snout into McCree’s hand.

“Let me at least turn on the stove,” McCree laughed. “It’ll take a while for the water to get to boiling anyway. We got some time.”

That seemed to perk Hanzo up and he nudged his snout more insistently into McCree’s side. McCree ignited the stove and turned it on high to boil the water before walking out where Hanzo could more easily get at him.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, cupping Hanzo’s jaw in both hands, tugging his head and neck up to press a kiss to the scales of his snout. His breath smelled briny and he had a fine dusting of salt coating his nostrils which made McCree laugh. “Were you eating French fries again?”

Hanzo snorted in his face, looking distinctly unamused, but he didn’t pull away. His tongue flicked out and slapped at the underside of McCree’s chin.

“And you didn’t share?” McCree asked, pretending to be hurt. “Darlin’!”

Grunting, Hanzo opened his jaws wide as if to say _look at me, I’m about to devour you whole_ and McCree caught either jaw in his hands, careful of Hanzo’s sharp teeth, like a beast tamer from a circus.

“Oh no!” McCree cried, pretending to fall beneath the dragon’s strength, sinking first to his knees and then his back. “The foul beast has captured me! He’s gonna eat me!”

Hanzo snorted, another wave of briny breath washing over him, and chuffed. He gently freed his jaws from McCree’s hands, then returned to rest his chin on McCree’s chest and belly, nosing with little chuffles against his neck and chin. Letting his metal hand slip down, McCree scratched at Hanzo’s jaw and the dragon let his eyes fall shut with a pleased little rumble, tilting his head into the caress.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked more seriously. “Need a bath? Some water?”

The dragon didn’t answer, not that McCree really expected one anyway. Hanzo was very good at hiding his needs when he put his stubborn mind to it.

McCree hummed, letting his head fall back. He jumped when Hanzo’s tongue flicked out again, licking at his neck.

He jumped again when he felt one of Hanzo’s clawed hands wrap around his ankle and drag him out into the living room. “Whoa, there!”

Hanzo chuffed looking at McCree with eyes that were wide open now, the nictitating membrane disappearing as he stared intently at McCree. It was always such a rush to see Hanzo like this, pupils down to tiny pinpricks of ink-black amidst a sea of textured orange-and-gold. McCree so rarely got to be on the receiving end of such a stare and he found himself shivering in a confusing mix of nervousness and arousal.

Any dragoner worth their salt knew that look and pose, the little wobble of a dragon’s head. It was a hunting posture and named such only because so few dragoners had seen the other side of that stare.

But McCree was well-versed in it and felt his body reacting, biting his lip as he stared up at Hanzo who now loomed over him, having maneuvered his long body around to rest his great chest over McCree’s splayed legs.

That look was _hunger_ —in any incarnation of the word—and McCree felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“I’m making dinner,” McCree said weakly, feeling terribly exposed with his shirt rucked up into his armpits from being dragged over the ground. Hanzo’s black tongue flicked out, brushing feather-light over his sternum. His orange-gold eyes stared into McCree’s, challenging. “Or are you hungry _now_?”

Making low noises in his chest, Hanzo shifted nosed at McCree’s cheek and neck. Putting his hands on Hanzo’s hard blue-violet scales, McCree felt the low subvocalizations that his human ears couldn’t hear. He ran his fingers along the scales of Hanzo’s chin and throat to feel the voice that he couldn’t hear.

“Well,” he said, cupping Hanzo’s chin in both hands, bringing those scaly jaws closer to press a soft kiss to them. He wondered briefly, as he always did, what Hanzo must be “seeing” through the pit organs lining his jaws.

But he was only human and he wasn’t sure that such things would translate very well.

He smiled, pressing another kiss to the scales between Hanzo’s flaring nostrils. “The water will take some time to boil, and the coals still need to burn down. We have time.”

Hanzo growled but there was a pleased curl in the notes in a way that McCree could never hope to describe to anyone else. He opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out in a sloppy and crude attempt at a kiss in this form.

Closing his eyes, McCree prepared himself to be devoured.  

* * *

He found himself on his hands and knees, his legs spread wide over Hanzo’s broad chest. Both hands were occupied with Hanzo’s cocks.

In this form both were enormous, large enough that McCree needed both hands to wrap his fingers entirely around. Both bulged at the base, the beginnings of a fat knot that would keep McCree spread wide. In this form they were difficult but not impossible to take, but both he and Hanzo loved it when he worshipped like this, his mouth and hands working over the soft, slick skin.

Behind him Hanzo purred, his neck arched, and his tongue buried in McCree’s ass.

McCree whined against the cock in his mouth, struggling to spread his legs wider, to buck back eagerly on the long tongue fucking him. He worked at the base of the slick dicks, fingers brushing against the vent and the scales that hid it.

His mouth fell open in shock when Hanzo’s tongue twisted in him, bumping into McCree’s prostate. “Oh, fuck, babe,” he breathed.

Hanzo grumbled, clearly pleased with himself. His tongue arched, twisted, rolled against McCree’s prostate with vigor. When McCree tried to buck back, Hanzo growled, a clawed hand coming up to rest on his shoulders.

_Stay still_ , Hanzo said as clearly as if he had spoken.

Pressing his face against Hanzo’s dicks, McCree groaned. He mouthed listlessly at the base of Hanzo’s cocks, feeling his own leaking precome over Hanzo’s pretty scales. “Fuck, babe,” he breathed. “Fuck, you’re driving me mad.”

That had Hanzo doing the exact opposite of what McCree wanted, pulling away and taking his wicked tongue with him.

“No, babe,” McCree protested. “No, no, no…”

Hanzo chuffed, nosing at McCree’s perineum, letting his long tongue slip out to lap at McCree’s balls. It felt and sounded like a reprimand despite the slick tongue flicking at McCree’s sensitive skin.

“I’ll hold still,” McCree promised breathlessly, burying his face in the hard scales of Hanzo’s belly. “Please, babe, please.”

Pulling back, Hanzo snorted. He stretched each leg as McCree watched, leaving his hind legs splayed and extended. Hanzo couldn’t speak in this form but he was usually able to at least pantomime to McCree what he wanted. Now he rested a large claw on McCree’s ass—careful to not let the talon or scales catch on something sensitive—and reached for his own groin with his other claw.

“Fuck,” McCree breathed, scrambling to his feet—shaky and lightheaded with arousal, with all of his blood rushing south—to get the lube.

With trembling hands he prepared himself and slicked up the first of Hanzo’s cocks. It was tapered more than the other was, as much to McCree’s private delight, Hanzo’s hemipenes were shaped differently.

McCree groaned as he sank down, his legs spread wide over Hanzo’s large body. This is by far the first time he’s done this with Hanzo but each time it feels like it is as he splits himself on that girthy length. Bracing his hands on Hanzo’s scales, McCree slowly rocked his hips, nudging Hanzo’s cock deeper in him.

“Fuck, babe,” McCree breathed.

Beneath him, Hanzo snorted as if to say _that’s what I’m doing_. His claws kneaded at the air like an enormous cat and that was something that McCree couldn’t bear to think about, not when he was so excitedly bouncing in his lap. Hanzo’s other cock rubbed against the inside of his thigh and he tried to slow down, hoped that he wasn’t hurting Hanzo, but Hanzo pressed his claws against McCree’s knees.

He twisted when he heard a hissing noise from the kitchen and beneath him, Hanzo growled.

“Jealous?” McCree asked breathlessly. “Only want me to focus on you, huh?” He gasped as Hanzo rocked his hips. Like this Hanzo wasn’t able to easily thrust but each motion of his legs or hips sent him deeper or in different angles, made McCree’s eyes cross. “Fuck.”

Hanzo growled beneath him, his tail lashing. Then he bucked, rolled, and they both groaned when he slipped out of McCree with a wet sound.

“What?” McCree challenged, rolling on his hands and knees to face Hanzo. He felt so desperately empty without Hanzo in him, spearing him wide on his tapered cock. “Don’t like me paying attention to anything else?”

The way that Hanzo hissed at him should have been terrifying but only sent bolts of heat straight to his cock. He couldn’t deny how hot and bothered such sounds made him.

“Maybe I’ll just go into the kitchen,” McCree continued to tease though he was far from serious about that and they both knew it. “Maybe I’ll just leave you here, all hot and bothered, and work on dinner.”

Hanzo hissed and moved faster than McCree expected him to. Clawed hands dug into the skin of his hips and thighs, yanking them higher. Laughing, McCree reached back, hand searching,slapping along Hanzo’s scales.

He found Hanzo’s tapered dick and guided it, groaning when Hanzo bucked his hips forward. With his other hand, he reached up and wrapped an arm around Hanzo’s neck. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed.

Snarling, Hanzo bucked his hips, forcing himself deeper into McCree enough that he half expected to feel Hanzo all the way in his throat. Another thrust had McCree letting go of Hanzo to brace both hands against the ground. He would have burns on his palms and knees later but it would be worth it: he could feel Hanzo’s knot bumping against his hole and whined.

Hanzo shifted his hips, his hind legs searching for purchase against the carpet. He moved his forelegs as well, bracing them in front of McCree’s shoulders. Nosing once against McCree’s head, Hanzo laughed—a sound that should be terrifying but only made fire burn hot down McCree’s spine—and _shoved_ forward.

* * *

Hanzo sighed, the very tip of his tail twitching. “This is lovely,” he said, the slightest hint of a rasp in his voice. He was in a form that was neither human nor dragon to enjoy dinner: human enough to taste and speak, but dragon enough that he still kept his scales and—most importantly to McCree—his knot. “Although it is altogether very silly.”

With one long arm he daintily selected a piece of meat, spearing it on the tips of his claws and bringing it, dripping juices, to McCree’s mouth.

Purring, Hanzo let his nictitating membrane slide halfway over his eyes. “It is a nice gesture,” he continued as McCree groaned. “And much appreciated. And—” he wiggled his hips, adjusting his position and McCree, still speared on his knot, whined. “—quite enjoyable.”

Hanzo let his other claw travel down McCree’s side, tracing over his torn clothes to his distended belly, wet with come and lube. The cock he had first used to fuck his little human mate twitched, hardening again as McCree wiggled in his lap. It slapped wetly against the inside of his thigh, also slick with lube and the obscene amounts of come that had been deposited so _lovingly_ in him.

Leaning in, Hanzo nuzzled against McCree’s cheek and neck. “It’s sweet that you wanted to do so much for me.” he sighed, bracing his taloned feet on the ground to grind up into McCree’s ass, just to hear his broken gasps. “Eat up,” Hanzo urged, hooking a piece of grilled pepper with a talon, pairing it with sliced sausage and bringing it to McCree’s slack mouth. “You’re going to need the energy. I intend to enjoy myself quite thoroughly. As you said, this is the holiday of _love_ after all.”

McCree, his stomach nearly distended and split wide on Hanzo’s knot, his face streaked with tears of bliss and overstimulation, whined.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Lyall_Lupa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyall_Lupa/pseuds/Lyall_Lupa/works) for assistance with ideas of what these two would make each other for Valentine's Day. And thank you for all of the pictures! It made me hungry (of course). 
> 
> Thanks also is due to [Ichigo Whiskey](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) for constantly reminding me that I had a due date for a project I kept forgetting about and for the moral support! ~~And for listening to me whine about all of the fun ideas I was given~~.
> 
> Feel free to come and yell at me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). If that's not your thing, I can also be found on tumblr at [ClassyWastelandBread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) but I haven't been quite as active there. 
> 
> ~DC


End file.
